Friday, November 27, 2009

Miss You

Your words are trash
Bags of sticky soup cans and used tampons
Your words are junk
They stick in her hair
Of course

You made her a mess
Painted her with glue to blow in the wind
Everything sticks
Of course

Your words are trash
Bags of crusty paper towels and bloody tissues
Your words are junk
They stick to her face
Of course

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